


let felicity fly

by Skyebyrd



Series: bingo au [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Brief Violence, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Journalism, M/M, Marvel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23216113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyebyrd/pseuds/Skyebyrd
Summary: A story told in two parts.Part one: Harry meets Louis at NYU and falls immediately and deeply in love, despite Louis’ overbearing boyfriend. Harry interns at the local Daily Bugle as part of the Superhero/Crime Liaison Unit and learns how to study and track superheroes and villains and the damage they inflict on the citizens of NYC. Harry does what he believes to be the right thing. Come the end of the school year, he uncovers more than what he cares to know.Part two: Louis gets bitten, gets sick, and gets strange powers (which come with…strange responsibilities). He has to learn to control them while also helping NYC’s most famous superheroes to fight off NYC’s newest, baddest supervillain. He also has to figure out his slowly detangling relationship with Harry. He only has the summer to save the city, and Harry.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: bingo au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669177
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	let felicity fly

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii wow. i can't believe people are even still interested in reading this fic. to be honest, i majorly lost interest in writing larry fic a few months back...and now i've dipped to join clown movie fandom. which. alright. 
> 
> i figured i should at least honor my own wishes and finish this fic. there are a lot of parts of this fic that will never be written, that i simply no longer have the energy nor the desire to write anymore, which is a shame. but i'm proud that i finished it. take it as you will. i decided today that i would take what i had already written, make sure it was at least mildly cohesive, and just post it. it's not betaed, it's not the best, but it's finished. it's an ending to a story so many of you have told me you wished to read.

The day Louis Tomlinson wakes up after getting bitten by a glowing blue spider he throws up directly on the carpet next to his bed. He throws up the moment he wakes and, in his delirium, thinks to himself that perhaps the act of throwing up is what woke him up in the first place. It gets all over his chin and chest, dripping down onto his floor and over onto Harry’s nice, new silk shirt he bought last week. He’d said it was to celebrate getting through finals and to give him good luck on being accepted as a full time _Bugle_ employee. 

Throwing up all over it, in his humble opinion, doesn’t seem like a good sign. 

His whole body is sore. He can feel Harry’s come leaking out from his ass and he doesn’t regret it at all. Well, he wouldn’t regret it if he wasn’t sick out of his mind. Now it just seems ill timed because he’s exhausted and sick and has to clean up puke and now also needs a shower on top of it all. He tries to get out of bed and has to crawl to do so and, fuck, fuck, he just stuck his hand in the sick all over the floor. _Fuck_. 

He was right. All he can do is hope he gets out of this on the other side with all of his limbs and mind intact. He’ll tack in an extra prayer he gets to keep his dick, too, while he’s at it. 

He groans, loudly. He’s sweaty and just feels awful. Harry stirs next to him, moaning and stretching and looking every bit the perfect, beautiful boyfriend Louis wants him to be. Louis feels even worse, now, just by looking at him. Louis’ feverish, his skin is probably bright red and dripping, and Harry looks positively incandescent in the morning light. 

He throws up again and Harry startles awake. 

“Oh, oh, darling,” Harry murmurs, pulling Louis out of the mess. “Come here, out of that.” Louis just moans, feeling pathetic. Harry pulls Louis up onto the bed and helps him out of his shirt and wipes his chin off. _God_ , he’s a fucking child. Harry’s never going to ask to be his boyfriend at this rate. But, fuck if Harry isn’t being so sweet to him right now. 

“I’m going to get a washcloth for you. Here’s, um,” Harry looks around Louis’ room quickly, finding the small trash can under Louis’ desk and pulling it over. “Here’s something to throw up in should you do it again.”

As if on cue, Louis’ stomach curdles and he has to dip his head almost fully into the can in his lap. When he’s done, he weakly lifts his head. 

“This is so disgusting.” Louis mutters. “I’m so disgusting.”

Harry chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead soft, gentle. Harry’s always doing things like this, being so sweet to him but not committing.

“Always beautiful,” Harry murmurs into Louis’ feverish skin. “I’m gonna get that washcloth now.” 

By the time Harry comes back, multiple wet washcloths in a freezer-size Ziploc bag to keep them moist, he’s gathered a few more supplies as well. A few reusable water bottles full of ice water, light snacks, and some cleaning supplies. The bottles he grabbed are those fancy ones Liam takes with him running, with the nozzle spout that looks like a baby’s bottle and can hold a (frankly ridiculous) amount of water. Louis’ dazed brain sees all this and all he can think is _my boyfriend has big hands_.

But, well, that’s the problem isn’t it. Because Harry isn’t his boyfriend. 

Harry fluffs Louis’ shitty, second-hand pillows up before helping him lie back down on them. Louis will admit -- while sick out of his mind, these pillows feel like being on a cloud. Harry wipes his sticky chin and chest off with one washcloth and lays a fresh, clean one over his forehead to cool him down, helping him drink some water from the water bottle. 

Harry then immediately sets to cleaning Louis’ mess up off the floor. 

“Do you think it was the bite?” Harry asks and Louis just grumbles. 

“What else?” He trails off. Louis’ feeling so out of it, so he doesn’t know how coherent he sounds. 

Louis notices at this point that Harry is picking up Louis’ dirty shirt off the floor and tossing it into the basket, picking it up as though he’s going to wash Louis’ clothes for him now.

“Harry, that’s gross, I can do it,” He tries, but Harry just cuts him off. 

“Louis, I’m happy to help. You’re clearly miserable and sick right now.” Harry brushes his sweaty bangs off his forehead and Louis tries his best not to nuzzle against his hand. “Let me help you.”

Louis just mumbles, his head swimming again. 

“Do you want to go back to the hospital? Check out the bite again?”

Louis can’t really respond. He can’t afford another trip to the hospital, anyways. If some weird spider alters something about him he’ll be pissed but it can’t change at this point. No use in fighting it. He’ll either die or he won’t. 

And so Louis falls into his fever. 

* * *

He dreams. He dreams about all kinds of crazy, fucked up things. He’s running through a sewer being chased by some kind of giant lizard man in a lab coat. He’s falling through the air, hearing a cackle behind him and the acrid, sharp scent of smoke hitting his nose as he falls through it, a strange, neon green. He’s on top of a ferris wheel as a giant, winged man comes diving for him but he’s so, so injured and he doesn’t know how much longer he can go for. He’s a girl in ballet class when she gets a strange sensation that she’s needed somewhere, immediately; she needs to go save someone and it can’t wait. He’s a young, black boy sitting on the side of a building, overlooking the city and eating a sandwich. He’s walking through the streets of NYC, swaggering around like an absolute fucking _idiot_ , doing finger guns and shaking his hips way too much to be any version of cool. 

These will all stay in his mind with sharp clarity but Louis won’t have any idea what they mean, won’t recognize their connection to him. Not until he’s old, not until his fighting days are long behind him, and he gets a visit from Dr. Strange himself. 

He doesn’t emerge from his illness for three days. He will have no memory of Harry scrubbing the floor, changing the sheets, getting fresh water and food for him, hand feeding him chicken noodle soup. Harry does it all the same. 

* * *

Louis is woken up by an alarm. It’s loud and fucking annoying and he has a huge headache so he goes to shut it off. He swings his arm over to his bedside table and -- and his hand goes straight through the clock. Like, smashes it to tiny bits that scatter across the floor, straight through. Which is...definitely new. 

Louis lifts his hand back, swinging his legs out of bed and, of course, immediately stepping on one of the broken pieces of the clock. Louis shouts out in pain because _fuck_ if it doesn’t hurt. He reaches down to pick up the pieces off the floor, but. 

There are pieces of clock stuck to his hand. All Louis can do is stare. 

That doctor _definitely_ didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. Nothing was going to be altered _his ass_ . Louis _knew_ this was going to happen. He tries shaking his hands but the plastic bits and one tiny cog don’t come off of his hand. He then tries to pick up his phone because he needs to call someone, anyone, to make sure he isn’t going insane. The phone sticks to his palm. Louis is officially freaking out. He doesn’t know what to do and he’s here all alone, and--

“Louis?”

He looks up and he had almost forgotten Harry was here. Harry’s halfway into the room, the door just open, and Louis can see eggs and bacon on a plate and a cup of tea in Harry’s other hand, carefully balanced. Louis’ heart twists. 

Harry’s staring hard at where the broken clock is scattered on the floor, where Louis’ hands are stuck to his cell phone and plastic and _shaking_. Louis could cry he’s so scared. 

There’s a huge pause and Louis can see the look on Harry’s face. 

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ say what you’re thinking, Styles--”

“At least it wasn’t a vat of acid?” Harry cracks his signature, awful dry smile. Louis is not amused. 

He’s _not_. 

* * *

So. Louis got bitten by a bright blue, probably radioactive spider that changed his genetic makeup. 

And Harry is technically right, Louis could’ve become a mutate by any number of vile things happening to him. He could’ve fallen in a vat of acid. He could’ve gotten wrapped up in electrical wires. He could’ve gotten hypnotized by weird robots attached to his back. Fuck, he could’ve been born a mutant and have to deal with the social stigma his entire life and end up going crazy and nuking everything. Or, worse, joining the X-Men. 

That doesn’t mean Louis is grateful he instead got powers by being bit by a fucking _spider._ He’d rather he didn’t have any at all.

Louis stops sticking to things about two hours in. Harry says it’s because Louis is finally calm, but neither of them is completely sure. Louis will have to do some experimenting with it. He’s grateful Liam isn’t home; Louis would rather not have to explain this to any more people than he has to right now. 

“Do you want to call the MHA?” Harry asks. He’s just given Louis some cereal, the breakfast Harry had cooked hours ago now long cold, and the spoon is sitting, graciously, back in the bowl, not permanently attached to Louis’ hand. At the mention of the Mutant Hospital Association, however, the sock Louis was pulling off his foot becomes lodged to the ball of his foot, half on and half off. 

“No, Harry, I don’t. Nobody can know. This is embarrassing enough as it is.” Louis groans. He wants more cereal but he doesn’t want to stick to the spoon. Will he have to live his entire life like this? In fear of fucking getting stuck to things? “This is the worst superpower ever.” 

“Not as weird as this guy from my high school whose power was turning into a puddle of slime.”

Louis giggles, despite himself. 

“Okay, fair. There was a guy at my high school who called himself Zack Attack and his only power was he could glow in the dark. But like, not always. Only sometimes.”

Hary chuckles. “Some attack.” Harry takes a bit of his toast and then immediately makes a sound of glee. “Oh,” he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s so excited, “you could’ve been like Squirrel Girl and become, fuck, Spider Man. Gotten, like, spider legs or eyes. God, how awful would that be?”

Louis gags at the mental image. 

“Disgusting.” He pauses. “Can you imagine fucking that? Looking into my, like, five hundred eyes?” 

Harry chokes on his toast. 

“Vile.”

This is what Louis loves most about Harry. He is inherently hopeful. Harry is, somehow, always able to find the good in things and he makes others around him forget about their troubles. Louis finds himself not worrying so much around him. 

* * *

Louis slowly gets used to his newfound...stickiness. He does some more research on arachnids and figures out what they do and why they do it. He finds out he now has tiny, microscopic hairs growing from his fingertips, palms, and feet that allow him to grip onto things with incredible strength. Because the hairs are frayed they cover a huge amount of surface area.

He learns to control the hairs by controlling himself. When he’s particularly stressed or frightened, it’s like some kind of self defense mechanism, allowing him to stick to anything and everything for dear life. He’s never been more grateful for summer; he doesn’t want to imagine what taking exams would’ve been like had he had these powers then. Stressed out of his mind and permanently attached to his chair, unable to move. Thanks but no thanks. 

So, Harry introduces him to yoga and meditation.

Harry’s apartment actually has a kickass balcony so they moved the table and chairs inside and spread out a couple of blankets and towels on the hard concrete floor, and they each grabbed one of Nick and Harry’s weird decorative pillows. They have a whole collection littering their apartment at this point; “Don’t mind me, I’m just on 50 mgs of fukitol,” “World’s best doctor,” “Good moms are made of sticky floors, dirty ovens, and happy kids,” “Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy hunting licenses, which is basically the same thing,” just to name a few. They’re always so weird and never have anything to do with either Nick or Harry but Louis gets the feeling that that’s the point. 

Louis grabs one emblazoned with “Theater kids do it in the dark” while Harry grabs a more PC one that says “Today has been cancelled, go back to bed” and they both sit down on their pillows, legs crossed. 

“So I just sit here and...don’t move.” Louis asks, doubtful. “And that’s supposed to keep me calm?”

“It’s been known to help. If it doesn’t help you, then it doesn’t help you, but the least we can do is try.”

Louis shrugs. Harry’s right, after all; it certainly won’t hurt to attempt. He’s kind of running out of options right now. He’d stuck to a spoon at work last night after a woman yelled at him for heating up her mocha to two degrees over what she asked (Louis still doesn’t know how she would even know, their thermometers aren’t _that_ accurate) and had to play it off with Leigh Anne like his hands were sticky from syrup. He doesn’t think it worked well. 

“Okay, cool, so I prefer to meditate before I do yoga. Some people do it after, some people don’t do it at all, but I like to clear my mind right before so yoga does its job properly of looking after the body.” Harry demonstrates to him how to keep his palms up. “It helps to keep the brain blank if you’re focused on keeping your body in the same position. I’m not sure of the spiritual stuff associated with meditation and yoga outside of the, like, obvious, so I don’t know if any of this stuff is symbolic but that’s how I see it. Just calm down and relax.”

Like that’s so easy. 

But, he tries his best. 

He sits and tries to stay still. He thinks about how hot it’s been getting, about how he’s going to have to figure out how to live his life if he can’t get ahold of his new powers, what would happen should he gain even more powers...what Harry must think of all of this. 

He knows Harry isn’t prejudiced, that he keeps an open mind, but he’s also sure that Harry didn’t sign up for all of this. Harry signed up for a good time and a fuck buddy. That’s what Louis’ been delegated as, just a simple fuck buddy. Secret boyfriend would be too glorified of a term for what’s been happening with them. They’ve gone on a few dates, sure, but the way Harry ignores him in front of the boys just proves that Harry doesn’t want any public relationship with him. If Harry wants something different with Louis he sure as fuck isn’t communicating that in any way, shape, or form. 

God, he’s supposed to be _relaxing_. 

He huffs, opening his eyes and staring out at the building directly across from them. The sun’s out again, shining bright, but as it’s still mid-morning the sun is behind their building and casting a shadow over their little balcony. Little fluffy clouds are trekking across the sky and he wonders what Mason is seeing in the San Francisco sky right now. Probably the sun coming up and breaking through the fog over the Golden Gate bridge or some other such gorgeous, picturesque nonsense out on the West Coast. 

He steals a look over at Harry and, upon seeing him lost in concentration, pulls his phone out to see if he’s got any missed calls; there are none. 

He wasn’t expecting one per se, but Mason calls almost every single day. The time he calls is always different as he’s always on some assignment or other; San Francisco is no stranger to murders and thieves and villains and someone has to report on them. Mason will call in the middle of the night, on his lunch break, first thing in the morning, during Louis’ closing shift at the coffee shop...it always brightens his day up, knowing Mason’s doing well, despite the distance.

The last time Mason went away for a long period of time he came back...strange. He’d ignored Louis and all of his own family the entire time he went to DC for a conference and he came back absolutely ripped and irritable and had a penchant for eating meat, despite being a vegetarian for years beforehand. Mason had always had a short fuse, even before the conference trip, but ever since he came back it’s been worse than ever. 

This trip is, thankfully, entirely different from that one. Mason seems to be in incredibly high spirits, for one; he sounds downright jolly whenever Louis answers his calls. Louis is happy for him, he is. He knows Mason had so many struggles growing up, dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts for years, but the California sunshine seems to be doing him some good. 

He opens up Instagram quickly, scrolling past Zayn’s newest tag and Niall’s diploma brag and his sister’s fresh dye job. Nothing new from Mason; the last picture he’d uploaded had been when he’d landed in San Francisco months ago now, the sun shining bright over the cityscape and not a shadow in sight. He’d captioned the photo “missing you.” Louis knows it isn’t subtle, knows exactly who it’s aimed towards. He knows Mason still holds a candle for him. 

Louis also knows he made himself very clear to Mason _years_ ago. 

His phone chirps with a message and he opens it, assuming it’s Mason. He groans when he sees what’s been sent. 

“Harry,” he says, annoyed. Harry chuckles next to him. 

“Your fault for not concentrating.” 

Harry had sent him a picture of himself, eyelashes fanning down his cheeks as he looks down at his phone, his Instagram feed only slightly visible . 

“It’s hard to focus on nothing for so long.” Louis complains, but he sets his phone down. His mind wanders almost immediately, the picture Harry sent reminding him of a selfie Harry had taken just yesterday, Louis in the background trying to get his Xbox controller to unlodge from his palm. It was a funny picture, Louis obviously annoyed and disgruntled and Harry smiling like a loon. 

“Well, that’s why we just need to practice, baby.” Harry murmurs, suddenly much closer than he had been. “We’ll practice and practice until you decide it’s not worth doing. If you can concentrate on doing nothing, you’ll be able to learn how to concentrate on letting go of things when they get stuck to you.”

 _Baby_ . Baby, baby, baby. Louis loves being called _baby_ ; it’s almost a crime how good he feels when Harry calls him that. He’d do almost anything to get Harry to call him baby in that sweet, low tone of his. It’s like he zones in on that, like he’s not doing it for anybody else but Harry. 

“If you have trouble focusing on nothing, try focusing on the way your body is positioned. Keeps you out of your head. Focus on keeping your back straight, palms out.” 

He flattens his palms, straightens his back, holding the position so his chest is out. 

“That’s good, Louis.” Harry says, softly. “We’ll do this for another, I don’t know, ten minutes? And then I’ll show you a few positions.”

Louis has to stifle a laugh. 

“I think you already have shown me a few positions.” He trails off, Harry laughing loudly. 

“Do you want to try some breathing techniques to go along with this?”

“Sure.” Honestly, at this point he may as well go all in. It’ll only hurt him not to try. 

“Cool, cool. Okay, so, breathe in through your nose and hold it for four seconds, then exhale through the nose for four seconds. We’ll just do this until my timer goes off and then start yoga.” 

They sit in a calm silence for the next ten minutes, Harry’s timer going off at the end and it’s honestly a surprise when it does. Louis is a little bleary, a little bit out of it. The balanced breathing had been amazing, calming him down to his core. Harry gets them both some water and shows Louis a couple of stretches to warm up. 

“These aren’t that different than the warmups Liam does before he works out.” Louis notices. 

“Right, exactly. These are just super basic stretches designed to get your body ready for exercise. It probably wouldn’t hurt you to start working out with Liam, neither. He runs a lot and running can definitely help focus the mind.” 

“Yeah, well, with my new muscles from doing all this yoga it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“That’s the spirit! There’s always a bright side.” They get back down onto the floor, Harry laying down onto his back and Louis copying. “We’re going to start with an apanasana.” He curls his legs up so they’re folded over his belly, wrapping his arms around his knees and holding his legs close. Louis has to stifle a giggle; it looks like the fetal position, just on his back, but Louis’ a good sport so he tries his best to mimic the position. 

“Each pose we go through I want you to do that same breathing technique we did earlier. Focus on your body and your breathing.”

Harry walks him through a half-hour yoga session and it’s actually really nice. When it’s over, Louis is pleasantly out of his head a bit, feeling loose and loving it. Harry rubs his shoulders on the couch when they finish, Louis’ head lolling around. He doesn’t really get sore too much anymore, not since his change, but he still loves that Harry is rubbing his shoulders as the sun reaches farther into the sky, climbing and climbing until they’re no longer in the shade. 

Louis stays laying out on the floor over the blankets as Harry goes inside to grab some lemonade. 

“I would’ve made sweet tea but I’m not sure you’d be able to handle it, honestly,” he quips as he leaves. Louis chuckles. That boy and his tea. Harry comes back outside with two empty glasses and a full pitcher, placing them on the little table in the corner that holds a plant. Harry has to scooch the plant around and is just barely able to get both the plant and the pitcher to stay on the table. Harry dips back inside quickly to grab a few more blankets and pillows and they make a little fort on the balcony, watching cute cat videos on Harry’s laptop for a long time. 

Louis loves being here with Harry like this. Like it’s just the two of them in the whole world and they have no other responsibilities. But, alas, Louis does need to go to work a few hours later and Harry kisses him for a long, long time when he goes to walk out the door. It’s one of those really romantic movie kisses, too, where Harry presses Louis backwards a bit and their whole bodies are touching. 

He stays a bit lovestruck his entire shift. 

* * *

After a couple days running on yoga sessions and long kisses, Harry convinces Louis to go running with Liam, who is all too happy to bring Louis along with him. Louis picks out some worn-in sneakers, loose shorts and a tank top and hopes for the best. Liam, of course, is dressed all in Nike and Adidas, things designed to help with exercise. They go to Central Park to do a couple laps around the upper loop. 

“I don’t know, Liam…” Louis says as he looks at the running map Liam’s pulled up on his phone while on the train. “That loop’s a mile and a half.”

“Yeah, but it’s the smallest loop there. Trust me, a mile and a half in and you’ll realize it’s not that bad. I usually do two of the full laps around the whole park, along with a couple of the exercise stations they have set up around the loops.” Liam says, like that’s not the most intimidating statement he’s made all day. 

They unload off the train a few minutes later at the north end of the park, climbing up out of the exit where they’re doing a shit ton of construction on the sidewalk. Louis’ like 95 percent sure this is still the construction from when Deadpool set off a bomb on accident a couple weeks ago, just before he and Harry came to the park with his family. The park’s fairly busy this time of year, tourists and locals alike out to enjoy the sunshine and good weather. There’s loads of families walking along the paths and out on the lawn and it reminds Louis so much of when he and his younger sisters would be set loose out into the Ramble. 

“Alright, so, we’ll run it once and then see how you feel, okay? Let me know if you need to slow down at any point or take a break. No shame in needing help.” Liam’s overly peppy attitude is slightly grating right now, but only because Louis is really not looking forward to this. It just reminds him of running the mile in high school, which was the worst kind of torture known to man. Louis also notices at this time that Liam’s brought a water bottle with him, one of those fancier ones that are made of metal to keep the drinks cool inside. 

They do a couple of warm-ups, a couple jumping jacks and stretches just to loosen the muscles up and get them ready to do some exercise. 

“Shall we?” Louis asks sarcastically, standing up. He tries to remember Harry’s advice: try until he knows for sure that it doesn’t work and then move on to something else. He tries to convince himself this’ll be worth it.

“Absolutely.” Liam stands up, too, and they’re off. 

They do a lap. Louis expects to need to sit out shortly, his body not used to running, but it’s not that bad. Liam is in high spirits and so Louis says he’ll go around again. After the third lap Liam suggests they try out some of the exercise spots along the way, so they do. There’s a pull-up station that Liam can only do a few of but Louis can do forever, a planking station that Liam caves out of five seconds in and Louis manages to do for two solid minutes before Liam insists they move on, and a sit-up station that, again, Louis excels at. By the time they finish their fourth lap Liam is exhausted to his bones and Louis feels great. 

“Do you...ever go running...with Harry?” Liam asks, completely out of breath and bent over, water bottle pressed to his face to try and cool him down. 

“Harry goes running?” Louis asks, grabbing the bottle out of Liam’s hands and taking a swig, ignoring Liam’s protests. “I thought he just did yoga.” 

“Nope...Harry goes running a couple times a week, I’ve seen him around. He hasn’t done it much lately what with finals and hanging out with you all the time,” Louis jerks back a bit at this, worried for a moment that their cover has been blown, “but he’ll probably pick it back up since school’s out.” Liam stretches a hand out and Louis takes it, helping him right back up again. “Figured he somehow convinced you to go running together since you clearly have had prior training.”

Louis shrugs and shakes his head. “Not at all. I just figured I should exercise more.”

Liam lifts a brow, doubt all over his face. “You? Exercise? Willingly? Without Harry’s input?”

“Hey,” Louis scoffs, “people can change. How dare you judge my habits?” Louis doesn’t mention that that’s totally what happened. 

Liam just stares a moment and then shrugs again. “Alright, alright, fair enough. Wanna go for one more lap?”

“Sure you can handle it, Payno?” Louis teases, helping him stand up again. Liam shoves him and they begin jogging, Liam not exactly up for the same pace as before. 

As they begin running again, Louis carrying the water bottle this time since he can be nice when he wants, Liam looks over at him. 

“You would tell me if something happened, right?”

Louis nods, shoving down the icy sludge of guilt that’s threatening to roil up out of him. 

“Definitely.” 

“Okay.” 

Louis can tell Liam doesn’t believe him. 

They get all the way to the end of the trail again, Liam puffing away and Louis feeling great — a bit like he’s run a lot, which he definitely has, but not anywhere near as sore as he should be feeling. Maybe he’ll feel it later. It’s a gorgeous day out, too; the weather hasn’t turned rainy in a long time and Louis’ grateful for it. He needs to be outside, he hates being cooped up like he has been the past few days in his self-made isolation. 

Liam suggests they walk down to the south end of the park, says it’s good to cool down slowly rather than immediately sit back down in the train and head home. 

“Me and the boys are hitting up a club on Wednesday, Flaming Saddles, they’re doing half off drinks; you wanna join?” 

“Love to. Never been there.” Louis has a thought, then, and a grin overtakes his face. “Isn’t that the rodeo-themed place?” 

“Yeah, why?” Liam looks over at him and seems to realize the same thing. “Oh, god, you’re gonna have to bring Harry. You’ve been hogging him, anyway.” 

Louis flushes, biting his lip, embarrassed. “Have not,” he protests, but it’s weak. He’s more excited about possibly seeing Harry in some chaps, no shirt, boots, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. He’s going to have to do a lot of convincing to get Harry to agree, but he has a feeling Harry will be game. 

Liam rolls his eyes goodnaturedly. “You definitely have, but it’s fine, we get it. You’ve got the hots for each other and don’t wanna do anything about it.” Another bout of silence, and then, “You know, Niall made a bet with Ed about when Harry would ask you out.”

Louis has to bite back a laugh. 

“Oh did he? I’d love to hear his theory.” 

“Niall thought Harry would’ve asked you out on your birthday; he told Ed that, what, Halloween? Thanksgiving? But then Harry disappeared after that fight at your party, so…” Liam’s obviously edging for a story, just like he has been since Christmas when it happened. 

Louis’ not giving in today. 

“Niall’s got too much hope.” 

“And you don’t? Louis, it’s crazy obvious how Harry feels about you. He’s only stepping back because Mason walks all over you like he owns you.” 

Louis stops dead in his tracks and Liam slows down, having to retrace his steps to come back to where Louis is. He looks Liam right in the eyes. 

“Mason does _not_ walk all over me. I am fully aware of what’s happening between us. You’ve known us since high school, Liam, you know what happened. I won’t let it happen again. Drop it.” 

Liam’s eyes grow sad. “Louis, you deserve more than to be a caretaker. Mason will get over it. When was the last time you even talked to him?”

“Yesterday. He calls every day. So fucking drop it.” 

Liam tches. “Can’t even go a day without talking to you, Louis, I mean, he’s still as codependent as ever--”

“He’s doing fine on this trip, Li. Much better than the last one.”

“You shouldn’t be responsible for him, though! You and I both know he needs a therapist. Maybe even some medication. Louis, I love you, I love Mason, but he is not good for you; he’s barely even good to himself. Ever since he came back from DC he’s been even worse, he’s been so -- so angry, all the time. I’m worried he’ll hurt you. He needs--”

“Please, please drop it. He won’t hurt me; I trust Mason. Please stop.”

They stare at each other, neither backing down for a long time. Liam is the first to give in, always the peacemaker. 

“Fine.” 

* * *

Louis’ getting dressed for Flaming Saddles, slipping a bomber jacket over his shoulder. He’d had to go thrifting to find one with a bit of fringe but if New York City has anything, it’s got eccentric fashion pieces. His morning runs with Liam are starting to creep up on him; he’s tired from getting up so early every day, for one, but his muscles are also beginning to get a bit sore as well. His shoulders sting a bit from the movement of shrugging his jacket on, but then they’re right back to normal. 

He hopes he gets abs from this. If that fucking spider gives him anything else unexpected it better be abs. 

Liam knocks on the door and asks if he’s ready. 

“Yeah, just a minute!” Louis calls back and Liam’s muffled reply comes through enough that Louis can tell he’s already walked back down the hall halfway. 

Louis walks out into the hall and towards the living room where he can hear Felicia talking with—

“Harry? I thought you were meeting us there.” 

Louis is surprised to see him but not so surprised that he misses Harry’s long, long look up and down his body. Harry’s eyes grow a little dark and his jaw ticks in arousal. Louis has to suppress a memory where he sat on that same, strong jaw for a solid half an hour, Harry’s tongue easing him open and making him cry.

_Do not get hard right now._

“Just thought it’d be easier, is all. Won’t have to worry about meeting up at a certain place or whatever.” Harry licks his lips when he’s done talking which — Harry licks his lips all the time when he talks. It shouldn’t be a problem. But right here and now it makes Louis’ blood sing. 

“Are Zayn and Niall here as well, then?” Louis somehow manages to get out. He can barely speak past the visuals in front of him. Harry with a large, wide-brimmed Stetson and bedazzled cowboy boots Louis is itching to make fun of but secretly loves. He’s got dark jeans on and a belt with a huge silver buckle that matches the embroidery on his own jacket. 

“Niall got called into work and Zayn’s not answering my calls, so who knows with him, but Ed’s meeting us there.” Liam answers.

“He’s probably out tagging again.” Louis says, shaking off Harry’s stare and heading towards the door. “We all ready, then?” 

The trains are running late tonight and as a result are crowded even worse than usual. Harry somehow managed to find Louis a seat down one end of the compartment, motioning for him to sit. It was a kind gesture but a bit of a lost cause because the next stop an old, east Asian man with a tiny little kitten in his hands got on and Louis gives him his seat instead. It’s mainly a win-win scenario; the man is going to same way as them so he gets a seat and Louis gets a kitten to play with all the way to their stop. The man introduces himself as Mr. Li. 

The kitten is just a tiny little thing, a few months old. According to Mr. Li the little tyke’s name is Oliver, named after the movie _Oliver and Company_ , one of Louis’ favorites as a child. He’d always wanted to be Dodger when he was little. Oliver is a gift for Mr. Li’s granddaughter. 

“She’s living with us right now. Her father died and her mother is very sick so she’s going to be with us a while. Thought this might make her feel less lonely.” Mr. Li explains. Louis gets a bit choked up. 

“I’m sure your daughter will love him; he’s darling. Can I ask what her name is?” Harry asks, ever polite. 

“Lifen. She’s eight.” Mr. Li smiles while thinking of his granddaughter. “She’s the funniest thing you’ll meet. Full of energy.” His smile wanes. “She’s really strong but she has a...gift. Set the microwave on fire on accident the other day. I want,” he tears up, “I need her to know how much we love her. She feels so terrible, like it’s all her fault.”

“Well,” Louis says, putting on a smile to show Mr. Li his own bout of support while trying not to cry himself, “she’ll get there eventually, Mr. Li.” Louis looks around the compartment and makes sure Liam and Felicia are on the other side, too far to hear. “I’ve been trying meditation and yoga to help with mine. She’s young; kids adapt super easy to their environment. She _will_ get the hang of it. And Mr. Oliver here couldn’t keep a smile off her face even if she tried.”

Mr. Li looks relieved. “So you’ve been there?”

“I’m there right now, Mr. Li. But I’m hopeful. Life’s got a way of working out, even if it isn’t what we wanted. We’re here now and have to do something with it, y’know?” 

“There’s tons of school programs popping up all over the country now, too, for kids.” Harry pipes in. “I work for the SCLU. A lot of public schools are adding in stuff geared towards kids with abilities, they get training from the MHA and everything. There’s some out of school programs, too, different activities and stuff so kids can get to know each other and know they’re not alone. Those ones generally have adult mutants running them, people who’ve learned how to balance their lives and powers.”

“I’ll look into that, thank you.” 

The train announces their stop and Louis regretfully turns Oliver over to his rightful owner. 

“Tell Lifen I believe in her. I know she can do anything she sets her mind to, especially with the people she loves and that love her right back supporting her.” Louis says. He believes it, too. 

“Thank you. I will.” 

Liam and Felicia rejoin them as they disembark and head off towards Flaming Saddles. Louis has the distinct feeling that he won’t forget Mr. Li or his granddaughter. 

Ed meets them outside the club, the line long and winding down the street. Louis’ glad he brought his jacket as it’s getting a bit chilly out this late. There’s a person down the line from them at the front, trying their very best to convince the bouncer to let them and their friends in for free, and it’s fun to poke fun at them for a bit. Ed talks about his day at the vet center. He’s only there as a receptionist but he talks to them about the litter of puppies they got in that morning, each and every one of them spotted. Ed has plenty of pictures to share, of course, and the time passes easy. 

Louis’ feeling good and confident so they get a bit loose once they get inside of the club. It’s not hard to, either, since the drinks are all half off. The place is packed to the brim and he and Harry lose Liam and Felicia easily. Ed gets sidetracked quite easily by some short guy with a big hat and Canadian accent. So it’s just him and Harry on a dancefloor, getting tipsy and having fun. He’s turned around, back to front with Harry, grinding on him because drinks are half fucking off and he’s feeling himself. 

The DJ’s playing something modern and funky, a heavy beat that gets the floor even more crowded than it had been and it presses Harry closer to him and Louis can feel Harry’s cock heavy and full pressed against his ass. Louis lifts an arm up, back and around Harry’s neck, pulling his mouth down to his neck. It feels incredible, having Harry this close to him. They spend hours like this, pressed together and dancing without once seeing their friends, all the way through last call. Louis’ll definitely regret this come tomorrow night when he’s going to be exhausted during his shift but right now he’s on cloud nine. 

As they stumble out the doors into the night they don’t see any of the other members of their group anywhere. They wait, and wait, and wait, but none of them come back outside. Louis checks his phone and sees a message from Liam: _Hey Felicia wasn’t feeling so good so I took her home, Ed knows too._

Okay, there’s one question answered, but where’s Ed?

Harry gets out his own phone and tries calling him, the sidewalks emptying around them as people walk off home or get into cabs on the corner. Louis leans his back against a light pole, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. It’s so much brighter out here and he is so tired, and he’ll continue to be tired until he finds Ed and gets back into bed. 

It’s so cold out tonight. The sweat that has been coating his skin all night to cool him off is now acting against him; in the club it had been his saving grace but now he’s shivering from it. Fuck, didn’t he bring a jacket with him? He did. He brought his really nice new jacket with fringe because he wanted to dress nice for Harry, and look what good that did him. Now it’s lost somewhere inside Flaming Saddles and he’s going to have to come all the fuckway back out here to get it again another time when they’re open again. 

Where’d Harry go? He opens his eyes and scans the mostly empty sidewalk, spotting him at the opposite corner actively talking on the phone and laughing. Good. If he wasn’t laughing it’d be a bad sign. He probably got a hold of Ed, then. Harry’s so beautiful when he laughs, his dimples out in full force. He tips his head back, staring up at the sky. He wishes he could see the stars but the light pollution from the city is too bright and all he sees are some low lying clouds. He should ask Harry what constellations he knows. Maybe they could drive upstate some time and stargaze. 

Hopefully Ed found someone to go home with. It’s not like him to take off somewhere without letting anyone know, though. Louis’ praying it’s because Ed was too distracted at the time to think about texting his friends. Hell, maybe Ed was just too drunk and ended up wandering down the way to grab some pizza. 

“Hey, fucker, that’s my wallet!” 

The yell is enough to jerk Louis out of his half-asleep wonderings, looking around the street for the commotion. There’s only a handful of people left on the sidewalk so it’s not difficult to find the source of the commotion. There’s a gaggle of girls clustered in the middle of the sidewalk, watching one girl with short hair and a flannel tied around her waist yell at and chase a guy in a dark jacket and sweats. 

Typical robber outfit, of course. Always gotta look the part. 

The guy gets away, though, and the girl bursts into frustrated tears. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you didn’t bring any cash,” one of her friends tries to console her, “just cancel your cards and I’ll go to the DMV with you in the morning to get your license renewed.”

“My grandma’s necklace was in there!” 

The guy’s farther down the street, but perfectly in view. 

And Louis’ not _that_ drunk. Or, maybe, he’s just drunk enough, because he clambers up and takes off after him. Shouldn’t he use his new weird ability to run well? Put it to good use, as it were. Do something worthwhile with it, because he will never join a marathon, no matter what Liam might say. 

“I’ll get it, ladies.” He says as he passes them, only slightly sarcastically. They just look at him like he’s crazy and return their attention to their friend. 

“Louis, where are you going?” Harry asks when he goes by but there’s no time, now. Louis just kind of vague motions to the girls. 

Okay, Louis’ definitely a little drunk, but he pushes himself through to run as fast as he can, and ends up catching up with the robber fairly easily. He reaches out and yanks on the guy’s hood, forcing him to jerk backwards and choke, a bit. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis says, because he didn’t mean to choke him. And then what is he supposed to say? Is there some kind of script he should follow? He’s got powers, now, does that automatically make him a hero in this situation? Should he say something ridiculous like ‘Unhand the wallet, sir!’

Fuck no. That’s ridiculous. 

“She really needs the wallet, man, can we have it back please?” 

Not that that’s much better, but it’s definitely more casual, more subdued. The robber just looks at him like he’s crazy and whips a gun out of the kangaroo pocket of the hoodie which -- oh, shit. Oh _shit_ , this guy means business. He puts his hands up in response, trying to assuage him by any means possible. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not here to cause a scene. Feel free to check for yourself but she doesn’t have any cash, just some cards she’s probably already cancelled from her phone and her ID. None of that’s gonna do you any good.”

A car drives by and lights the robber’s face up more; he looks so young, younger than Louis, even. Maybe seventeen, definitely still in high school. Too young to have to be doing this shit. Too young to have to steal to survive. Fuck, nobody should ever have to steal to survive, but with a kid it’s especially heartbreaking. 

“I have some cash if you really need something? I can help you grab some food tonight?” 

The guy -- the _kid_ , he’s just a kid, looks shocked. He hasn’t said one word this whole time, hands shaking, finger off the trigger, thank God. Someone clearly taught him at least some mild gun safety. Hopefully it’s just a dummy gun, or it’s not loaded, he just has it to ward people off of him. 

“How,” the kid’s voice breaks and he clears his throat. “How much you got on you?” 

Louis shrugs. “Fifty bucks? I’ve also got a card on me. We can go to the store, pick you up some stuff you might need.” 

He looks around him, like he’s being watched, almost. He’s very obviously nervous and Louis wants to make this kid feel as comfortable as possible. 

“Look, I promise you. Look inside the wallet. Nothing good’s in there. I can personally hand you fifty dollars, look, I’m gonna reach into my pocket and get my own wallet out. See?” Louis does just that, digging around in his wallet and pulling out the cash he has. He counts it in front of him. “Okay, forty-seven, sorry. Still, forty-seven dollars, paid, done, just want the wallet back.” He offers the stack of money to the kid whose hands are still shaking, right hand tight on the gun. “I can still take you to a store. Get you some stuff. I’m not, like, crazy loaded, but I’m willing to help out a bit. We could hit up a deli, get you some food. Whatever you need.”

The kid thinks for a moment and then shakes his head, jerks it, rather; a very harsh no. 

“Just give me the cash.” He demands and then reshifts his stance, waving the gun again. 

“Alright, no problem. Can I have the wallet first? I’ve got two hands but you only have one.” 

He’s looking out of his mind nervous, now, like this whole thing is taking way too long and he’s reaching his end point. 

“I’ll keep both hands in front of me at all times, okay? I’ll take the wallet out of your hand first and then place the money back in. That sound good?”

“God, just fucking do it already!” He bursts out, gun shaking around. 

“Alright, alright, alright, alright,” Louis says rapid fire, trying to calm him down. He steps forward and does exactly as he’d described; he takes the wallet out of his hands and places his money back in, which he promptly shoves into his pocket so Louis can’t take it back. Smart. “Thank you.”

He nods back and Louis watches as he goes to reply, presumably with a “You’re welcome,” but changes his mind last second. The kid takes off, shoving the gun back into his hoodie pocket -- Christ, Louis hopes it’s on safety or just not fucking loaded -- and then, before he turns a corner, he does a weird thing with his hands and yells out “Westside!”

Which. Okay. Isn’t that a gang in Los fucking Angeles? Is he just posturing, trying to say he’s from a gang, any gang? He’s probably just trying to be intimidating, to prove something, to show he’s not just a dumb, scared kid trying to survive. 

Louis sighs. What even was that weird thing he did with his hands, anyways? He runs off back towards the club and gives the girl her wallet back, which, all of her friends are stunned by. 

“You actually did it,” She mutters, opening the wallet up and verifying all her belongings are in there. And -- okay, fuck her, there’s no necklace in there. “God, everything’s in here! That’s amazing, thank you!” 

Louis just nods. “Yeah, no problem. You’re welcome.”

They all titter over the situation and walk off, climbing into a couple of ubers and leaving. Harry comes up behind him and rests his hands on Louis’ waist, pressing a kiss to his throat. Okay. Okay. 

“Did you find Ed?” Louis asks, a bit out of breath. Harry starts to nibble on his neck, right where it meets his shoulder. 

“I did. He and that guy he met earlier went and got some pizza.”

“Around here?” 

“Apparently the guy knew a place.” He can feel Harry shrug. 

“God, that’s so unlike Ed to just take off. Must’ve been some guy.”

“Or some pizza. Apparently the guy’s a singer, too, and you know Ed’s been wanting to find someone to make music with for a while.”

“Yeah, true. Well. I’m glad we found him.”

Harry hums against his neck, swaying them a bit and pressing one final kiss to Louis’ jaw before they take off down the street towards the nearest train stop. 

“So, what happened just then?” Harry asks once they get inside the train. The compartment they’re in is completely empty and they’re in for a long ride back. There’s an old, singular, forgotten shoe on the seats opposite them. New York City at its finest. 

“The kid had run off. He was just a fucking kid, Harry, I felt awful. It was like cornering a caged animal, he was so scared. He had a gun though which was...fucking crazy.”

“He had a gun?” Harry asks, shocked. 

“Yeah, I know. But yes, a gun. So I just gave him the money I had in my wallet and got her wallet back because I’d heard her talking about her grandmother’s necklace or something so I thought it might be really important but there was no necklace!”

“Jesus Christ. So you’re just out the fifty bucks for no reason?”

“I mean, not for no reason. She got her wallet back with her cards and ID and shit. And now the kid has fifty bucks to spend. So. Everyone wins but me, I guess.” Louis sighs, leaning up against Harry’s shoulder. They’re silent for a long time, and then, 

“You’re such a kind person, Louis. You see a kid snag a wallet and you think about why he needed to take it, not that he’s terrible for doing so. I really admire that.” Harry murmurs into his forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there. 

This is distinctly edging into Boyfriend Territory and Louis needs to keep it here as long as possible. He feels so warm and flushed. 

“Thanks, Harry. I always try to look at people’s motivations behind the actions and not just the actions, y’know? I think it’s really important.”

Harry kisses him again, this time on the mouth, and it’s incredible. Once they’re reaching the edges of Manhattan Louis thinks of something else. 

“Y’know, when he took off, he yelled out Westside and did a thing with his hands.”

“Westside? That gang in LA?” Harry laughs a bit. “How strange.”

“Yeah. What even was it he did with his hands…” Louis tries to configure his right hand into the position. He’s still a bit drunk so he’s struggling putting his ring finger and middle finger together, so he takes his left hand and presses the two fingers down onto his palm and then -- fuck. 

What the _fuck_. 

“Did…” Harry trails off. They’re both just staring at it across the compartment from them, the giant spider web that’s covering the window. “Did you just do that?”

All Louis can do is nod. 

“Can you do that again?”

He presses his ring and middle fingers down towards his palm and -- okay, this is fucking gross. 

“This is disgusting. I make webs now? Out of my wrist? I fucking hate myself.”

“I mean…” Harry shakes his head back and forth. “It could be handy. You could patch up that hole in your wall.” Harry waggles his eyebrows and so Louis shoves him, laughing along. 

Harry really makes him feel like all of this might just end up okay. 

* * *

“Huh.” Harry says, checking out his phone. “Did you know Flaming Saddles got robbed while we were there?” Harry asks at Mickey’s the next week.

“Seriously? Like, how bad?”

“Apparently someone broke into the main office and stole all the money out of the safe. There were also some valuables in the room that got taken too, a couple necklaces, some rings, stuff like that. Bill just texted me about it, wanted to know if we’d seen anything weird.” Harry looks up at Louis expectantly. 

Louis thinks back to that night. “Nah, not that I can remember. Like, besides the kid outside, but he didn’t have anything on him but that wallet. Probably unrelated.” Louis shakes his head. 

“I’ll just text Bill saying there was a minor mugging outside after close but that’s all we saw.” 

Louis hums, biting back into his burger. “Was anything left on the scene?”

“Um…” Harry scrolls back through the text before his eyes widen. “Oh, shit. A stamp of a cat’s paw.”

“Probably Black Cat, then. That’s her signature. I mean, either her or someone who weirdly wants us to think it was her.” 

“God, that’s so crazy. We were there while it was happening. None of us knew.”

“I mean, what could any of us have done against the Black Cat? None of us are exactly superheroes.”

Harry chuckles a bit at that. “I mean, you do have your own powers, Louis. You could if you wanted.”

Louis’ been thinking about it ever since Flaming Saddles. Maybe even before then, maybe since he got bit. He knew his life would never be the same after that spider...maybe this is his calling.

“I did save that girl’s wallet…and I’ve got that new web power. I could just, like, wrassle ‘em up.” He puts on a fake southern accent for the last part and Harry laughs, so bright. 

“So, I guess the main question remains -- do you _want_ to become a superhero? That’s a lot of pressure.” 

Louis takes a while to respond, mulling over his words. It’s not like he hasn’t been obsessively thinking over it since the wallet incident -- because he definitely has -- but he still doesn’t know how to feel about it yet. 

“I’m not really sure. Like, I’m a local New Yorker so I get the culture while a lot of other supers are transplants. It’s much easier to like, be okay with tearing down a building if you’re not around to patch it back up again.” 

“Also true.” 

“But I also just don’t feel very...I don’t know. Heroic? Like, I still feel like a kid sometimes. I don’t even match my socks!”

“You’re shitting me, right?” Harry sets down his fork. “You are easily the bravest person I know. You helped that kid, Miguel, in Central Park, remember? Or even with that guy at the club, you got her fucking wallet back!”

“I’d hardly call that heroic, Harry--”

“Well I would. I wouldn’t do anything like that. Louis, you’re the kind of person who sees a burning building and runs inside to make sure everyone gets out. Now, you don’t have to become a superhero, but if you want to, you’d be one of the best. I’m sure of that.” 

Louis is silent for a long time after that and Harry lets him be lost in his thoughts. 

“I wish I knew someone who’s already a superhero.” Louis says. “I could use a mentor. Someone needs to ‘Karate Kid’ me.”

Harry chokes on his drink. 

“See...about that.”

“About what? Why do you look so guilty?”

* * *

“Liam James Payne, you get your fucking lying ass out here right now!” Louis yells, banging the door to his apartment open. 

Liam’s in the kitchen sitting at the counter and eating cereal, milk dripping down his chin and onto the counter. He looks shocked to see Louis and Louis is determined to make him fucking weep. 

“He needed to know, Liam, I promise,” Harry tries to intervene but Louis just silences him with a glare. 

Liam’s face drains of any color he had left. 

“I thought we were best friends, Liam. We’ve known each other for eight fucking years, and you betray me like this? You and Zayn and Niall and Ed, just, what, decided I wasn’t trustworthy? That I wouldn’t keep your secret?” Louis goes on and on and on, not being able to stop. He paces around the kitchen in his anger, yelling, and Liam goes back to eating his cereal. “Why did I have to find out from fucking Harry?”

Liam makes a face. “What, did he tell you right in the middle of--”

“Do not finish that sentence.” Louis threatens. “You know what I meant.”

Harry fights back a laugh and Louis swings around on him. “Don’t you start, either, dude. I’m also mad you kept this from me.”

Harry’s face morphs into surprise very easily, affronted. “Hey, they told me not to tell! I wasn’t gonna share someone else’s secrets without their permission.”

“Oh, like you just did?” Liam says, taking another bite of cereal. 

“Okay, situations changed, though.” Harry offers, pointing at Louis. “Do you wanna show him?” 

“Show me what? Did you guys get engaged, or--”

Louis bends his two middle fingers down and aims at Liam’s mouth. The web covers his lips and Liam drops the spoon in shock. 

“I know sarcasm is your main defense when confronted, Liam, but please.”

Liam muffles behind the webbing and his hands shoot up to scrabble at the web. 

“I’ll have to take it off, hold on.” Louis walks over and messes with it for a minute, taking it off fairly easily. “I can take off small chunks of it but if it gets too thick it has to be cut.”

“How the _fuck_ did you get powers?”

Louis has no choice but to start from the beginning. 

“So, you remember when I got sick for a few days?”

Harry chimes in during the story every now and again. They go through the spider bite, the yoga and meditation, go through the running (“No wonder you beat me on our run together!”), go through the mugging incident. They discuss Louis’ new powers one by one, Liam asking so many questions that Louis has no answers to. 

“Are you bulletproof? Can you climb up walls with your sticky hands? Do you think you could use the webbing to, like, catapult yourself through the city? Like grab onto shit with it and swing around like Tarzan?”

“Liam,” Louis says, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That sounds ridiculous.” 

“I mean, I don’t know. Anything’s possible, especially with the right equipment and suit. We’ll have to decide on a name for you, too.” Liam gets up and grabs a piece of paper and a pen from by the phone, writing things down rapidfire. 

“A name?”

“Yeah, like. You know. A superhero name.” He says, turning around. “You did wanna join us, right? I doubt the other boys will have any complaints.”

“You want me to join Super Squad?” Louis is stunned. He thought, maybe they’d help him control his powers. Maybe they’d help him learn how to navigate figuring out when to intervene and when to leave well enough alone. “Seriously?”

“Of course, man, we love you! Nobody should have to go through this shit alone. If you don’t wanna join us I totally get it but you’re fully welcome to.”

Louis looks at Liam, and then at Harry, who are both looking right back at him in an expectant manner. 

“I mean...I can try it out?” Louis says, drawing out the words in hesitance. “You’ll make me a suit, right?”

He nods vigorously. “Oh, yeah, yeah, definitely, for sure. Everything’s set up at Niall’s place. We’ll go and, like, spitball some ideas on the way. You wanna go now? Let’s go now. I just need my bag.” He then disappears into his room and Louis can hear him rummaging around. 

Louis nods and then turns to Harry. “I don’t think you’re gonna be allowed over there.” 

“Definitely not!” Liam calls back out into the rest of the apartment. They both laugh and Harry makes a motion with his head over towards the hallway that Liam went down, and then he waggles his brows. 

“Are you aiming for a dirty makeout session before my roommate gets back out here, Styles?” Louis asks, stepping up to Harry in the kitchen. Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and pulls him closer. 

“Absolutely not,” he murmurs, and kisses him, bending him backwards a bit with the force of it. 

“Hey, Louis!” Liam calls out. “Do you think we should do a blue suit? You said the spider glowed blue, right?”

Louis and Harry separate just before Liam comes back into the kitchen, arms full of papers and a bag of tools of some sort. 

“Maybe...we’ll see.” Louis is caught off guard by the question, and not just because he was mid-kiss. God, he’ll really have to create a whole other persona. 

“Alright, well, we should be getting off to Niall’s. You’re welcome to stay here if you want, Harry, until we get back.” Liam offers but Harry’s already shaking his head. 

“No, no, I should be getting home. I have a spreadsheet to work on and like, four interviews to transcribe. I still haven’t been given a burrough officially since Cindy won’t leave until next month so I still have my intern duties to handle.” Harry leaves to walk out the door and waves goodbye, turning to look at Louis one last time while Liam organizes the nonsense pile he’s got in his arms. Harry waggles his eyebrows and sticks his tongue out right between his teeth. Louis rolls his eyes and Harry closes the door behind him. 

“Thought you two weren’t a thing?” Liam asks, the picture of innocence. Louis blushes. 

“We’re not.” 

“No? I’d say making out with someone in the middle of the kitchen is ‘thing’ material if you ask me.”

Fuck. Louis groans, annoyed at being caught out.

“Can we just go? Design my spandex underwear without a side of interrogation?”

“None of us wear spandex. I think that’s, like, exclusively an X-Men thing. Even the Avengers retired their spandex.” 

“Not the point, Liam.” Louis opens the door, letting Liam walk out first with his arms piled high with papers and bits of fabric. Louis definitely spies some spandex in the mix, the filthy liar. 

“Right, right. The point is you want to keep your thing with Harry a secret for some weird reason. I bet Harry hates that.” Liam trips a little bit, dropping some papers on the staircase as he tries to put them into his backpack. Louis leans down to help him gather them back up. 

“Harry’s the one that wants to keep it a secret, not me. So you can’t tell the other boys.” 

Liam seems surprised by this, pausing in his reach to grab a spare bit of neon pink leather. “Harry Styles wants to keep your relationship a secret.” 

“Yes, Liam, and it fucking sucks and I’d rather not talk about it.” He shoves the now very much wrinkled papers into Liam’s bag for him and moves along, his brain on overdrive and trying its damndest to get away from the conversation as quickly as possible. 

“Why?” Liam asks from the flight above, trying to keep up with Louis. 

“Why what?”

“Why does he want to keep it a secret?”

Louis scoffs, echoing a bit in the empty stairwell. “Fuck if I know, man. That was, like, his main thing, that nobody could know. He’ll take me out on dates, he’ll kiss me in public, dance with me at a club but won’t….” Louis sighs and pauses on the staircase, Liam catching up with him. “I want him so much, Liam, but I think...sometimes I think he just keeps me around for a fuck. It sucks. I want so much from him and he doesn’t want any of that back.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.” Liam’s taking the moment to zip up his bag but it gets caught on a piece of thread.

“Regardless, it’s what he’s doing.” Louis reaches out to try and help but Liam sorts it out quickly.

“There must be some reason for it, though, don’t you think?”

“You don’t think I haven’t thought of that? I have no idea what it could possibly be. It bothers me to no goddamn end, Liam.”

“I’m sure he thinks he’s doing something in your interest.”

“Why would it be in my interest to keep our relationship secret?”

Liam shrugs. “I’m not Harry, am I?” 

Louis rolls his eyes and opens the door to the main lobby of Liam’s building, the receptionist’s incense burner sending a cloying scent through the room. 

By the time they make it outside of the apartment building, Louis realizes something. 

“Liam...I thought Niall didn’t have a place and was couchsurfing? Did he finally find an apartment?” 

Liam’s eyes grow wide. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know! Oh, you’re in for a huge treat. His new place is in Staten Island.”

“Staten Island?” Louis can practically feel his jaw hit the pavement below them. God, he’s going to be out all fucking day, getting to and from there. “When did Niall become the fucking bourgeoisie, huh?”

Liam laughs at Louis’ joke. “His parents turned out to be rich, so that’s fun, but I can also, I mean, yknow,” Liam shifts around and looks to check if anyone’s listening in, but he does it so exaggeratedly that Louis’ sure people are listening in now, “I can hack into banks and transfer money around, so. We’re good for life.” 

“And you make me pay rent? You fucker,” Louis shoves Liam playfully. “First you lie about secret identities, then you lie about having access to unlimited money.”

“Hey, hey, all in the name of safety! Didn’t wanna get you tangled up in anything in case you got in trouble.”

They walk all the way to the closest train station, which thankfully isn’t too far from their apartment. They catch a train all the way down to the lower southside and then hop out, trekking it towards the ferry. It’s a gorgeous day outside, barely a cloud in the sky, and if this were any other day he and Liam would be shooting the shit downtown, or he’d be following Zayn around as he threw up art, or he and Ed would be working on lyrics for Ed’s next song. Instead -- well, instead they’ve all been living this entirely separate life from him without him ever even noticing. 

Has he really been so oblivious? How has he been such a bad friend, to not even notice this?

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? I’d have kept your secret, Li.” Louis asks over the breeze. They’re stood by the railing despite the ferry surprisingly not being very crowded and seats a plenty. Louis’ too anxious to sit down right now. 

“I know you would’ve. But it’s not just my secret, Louis. It’s also Ed’s, Niall’s, Zayn’s--we know Little Mix. We know a couple of the younger X-Men, we know Wiccan, we know--well, you get it. We know a lot of people. And I know you’re trustworthy, I know, I do, but not everyone else does know that. Letting you into our circle would’ve meant a huge breach of trust of that, it would’ve meant telling other people’s secrets to you as well.”

“I get that, but, like--Harry knew. Why did Harry know and not me? That’s hardly fair.”

“Harry knows because...well, frankly, I don’t know if I should be telling you this either. But I may as well explain now before we get there. The SCLU has major ties to Wilson Fisk, for obvious reasons, namely that he funds the entire _Bugle_. But also because he has a vested interest in criminalizing superheroes and the SCLU can have a major sway in how the public sees superheroes and, because of people’s prejudices, mutants in general.”

“But mutants are born that way. And mutates like myself didn’t exactly have a choice, either.”

“Yeah, I know that, but Fisk is just a prejudiced asshole. Probably had one too many assets set on fire from Captain Marvel or something. Look, point being, he’s threatened Harry on multiple occasions to find out the identities of any and every superhero he can, but mainly...well, us. Me and the boys.”

Louis starts at that. 

“Wilson Fisk, who basically runs this entire city, _threatened_ Harry?”

His mind is racing. He can’t help it but his mind immediately begins filling in gaps in Harry’s behaviour. Is that why Harry never wanted anyone to know they were together? As awful as it may be, Louis flushes a little at the thought. Harry wanted to protect him. That must be it; it makes perfect sense. If nobody knew they were together, Louis wouldn’t have also become a target. 

He tries to shake himself out of that thought process. Fisk has a lot of money. A _lot_ of fucking money. Enough money to have Harry murdered, disposed of, and erased from current memory. If something had happened to Harry and Louis had gone to the police, they wouldn’t have any record of him ever having existed, Louis’ sure. 

“He did,” Liam continues. “He did almost the same with Ed last year, when he interned with the SCLU. And Ed did find us--only he then decided to join us, rather than expose us.”

“Did he….how was he threatened?” Louis almost doesn’t want to know, almost pulls his phone out to call Harry straight away, make sure he’s still there, that he’s okay.

Liam shrugs. “Dunno. Probably the usual way, very ‘do as we say and no one will get hurt’ spiel, y’know? Harry still works there and hasn’t fled the city yet so clearly he thinks it’s fine enough to still be around. Probably for the best, too. If he runs now, Fisk would surely track him down.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.” Louis says, staring down into the murky water. 

“Yeah, well. That’s our life, Louis.” Liam pauses and sighs, once, short and harsh. “I’m gonna sound really insensitive but our lives are constantly under threat. There’s not a single day I don’t take for granted. I could die on any given day. Zayn, Niall, Ed...now you. We could all die. And whoever’s left is going to have to keep on living after knowing we _all_ did the best we could. It’s a hard concept to grasp, and some days I go fucking crazy over it, but we do this for the people because this city fucking pays the cops to arrest people who can’t afford public transit, not to protect citizens. We _need_ to be here, and that’s what makes this all worth it.”

Louis nods. Liam _is_ right, even if it’s hard to think about. This is what his life will be like from now on.

“Yeah, yeah…So what kept Ed out of trouble with Fisk, then? When he left?” 

“The fact that Fisk never knew who we are. Now, though, he knows. And since Harry’s such good friends with all of us…” Liam trails off, leaving Louis to make his own assumptions. 

“Right.” Louis murmurs. Now that Harry is so close with them, he’s become a target all on his own. Which means Louis is probably also a target already. “So when a suspiciously spider-themed superhero publicly joins the Super Squad, you think Fisk will connect the dots?”

Liam nods, his face serious. “Absolutely. I’d be surprised if you weren’t already trailed a few times.”

This is fucking crazy.

“Do you think we’re being followed right now?”

“Probably. There’s really no way to get to Staten Island secretly but once we get there I’ve got a way to get to our base pretty incognito.”

“Got a secret tunnel do you, Payno?” Louis giggles. Liam laughs along. 

“Not so much a secret tunnel, no. You’ll see.”

When they finally get to Staten Island and unload fifteen minutes later, Liam hails a cab and takes them almost completely to the other side of the island. They get out and Liam leads him towards a food truck that smells amazing; it specializes in macaroni and cheese and, of course, Louis becomes famished in the instant the scent of almost-burnt cheese hits him. Liam tragically seems to have other motives, though, as he dips around behind the food truck and slips into the alley tucked behind it. Liam goes up to a window near the back of the alley and opens a small dilating window. 

“What is this, 007?” Louis asks at the same time his stomach growls and Liam hushes him. He then proceeds to shove his backpack down the shute, the overstuffed bag barely fitting inside the small diameter of the hole. 

“It goes to the base. Hate lugging shit around, so I just put this in last year.”

“Oh, sure, you just bore a hole into the wall of this unsuspecting building in fucking _Staten Island_ \--”

“Louis, hush. Do you want some mac and cheese?” 

He had to restrain himself from pumping his fist in the air in victory. 

“Yes, _please_.”

Liam walks up to the backside of the food truck and bangs on the door. Louis is momentarily appalled; he’d always known Liam as polite and to see him acting so callously to food service is a shock. The back door slams open, clanging a bit, and Louis sees a woman with the curliest pink hair and beautiful light brown skin pop her head out. 

“What’s--Liam! Hey, honey!” She says, full of warmth. She’s older than either of them, but not by much; Louis guesses around 26, 27. Her face is full of sweat but she is dressed spectacularly despite running a macaroni and cheese food truck in the heat of late June. She must be sweltering, but her face full of makeup would never betray it, Louis’ sure. 

“Hey, Yasmin.” 

They chat between themselves a moment, Louis zoning in fully on the smell of macaroni and cheese and something that is definitely deep fried. 

There’s three more girls working in the food truck, laughing loudly and clearly having fun while they work. They’re all in heels and gorgeous outfits, straight out of a fashion magazine. 

“I can totally do that, Liam! Hey, cool cat, can you get me a couple bowls?”

“Anything for you, pretty princess.” 

As Yasmin goes back inside the truck to help someone tapping at the window asking for an extra spoon, Liam explains who they are.

“I used to be in class with Chloe over there by the fridge freshman year. Advanced coding. She helped me make the shute over there, actually. And Sasha, she’s by the stove, she’s the owner of the truck. They all help me out and I make sure any tickets they get are wiped and I help with their credit card bills. Plus, y’know, they guard the entrance here.” 

Louis laughs as Yasmin comes back with their food. 

“Enjoy, Liam!”

“Thank you,” they both say, and walk off towards the back of the alley again. 

“So you’re basically their sugar daddy?” Louis jokes and Liam groans, mouth full of noodles and cheese. 

“Fuck off, no,” he says, trying to chew and talk at the same time. It’s the kind of disgusting that can only be tolerated after being friends for so long. 

Liam reaches out with his hand to a brick and pushes it in and of course, of _fucking_ course, a door opens up in the wall next to them. 

“After you,” Liam says in a very fake, very over the top British accent. Louis rolls his eyes, walking into the dark space. It smells clean in here, not dark and damp like one would suspect. Liam steps in after him and the brick slides right back into place with barely a snick. Almost immediately, lights come on, illuminating the area. 

“An elevator?” Louis asks. “This building’s like two floors, Liam. Why is there an elevator here?”

“Because we’re not going up.” Liam presses the one button on the elevator’s wall and they begin their descent. The only sound between them is the slow whirring of the mechanics of the elevator and the humming of the fluorescents above them. 

“You know how pretentious this whole thing is, right?” Louis can’t help but giggle, and luckily Liam is a good sport because he laughs, too. 

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted our own Fortress of Solitude, y’know?”

The doors open with a ding and Louis’ eyes grow wide. 

“Well, you certainly got one.”

* * *

Niall is both surprised and not to see Louis. He’s all the way at the back of the cavernous headquarters, the ceiling above them vaulted at least thirty feet above them. It certainly hadn’t felt like they’d travelled very far down, but looking at the walls that were exposed rock and not dirt, they clearly had gone farther than imagined. 

Niall had been stationed at the computer deck on the far side from them, looking at footage of a bank robbery from a week prior. When he’d heard Liam and Louis talking he’d simply turned around, saw the both of them, rolled his eyes, and turned right back. 

“Figured he’d show up at some point.” Was all he offered when Louis asked why he wasn’t surprised to see him. “You’re one of our closest friends. I always wanted you to be a part, but Liam voted against it. He didn’t think you’d be safe.”

Of course, when he learns the _real_ reason Louis is there, he chokes a bit on his soda, and then immediately hugs him close, tight as ever. When Zayn and Ed arrive later, backpacks slung over their shoulders, fresh out of class, they get told Louis’ story as well. 

“Of course _you’d_ get bitten by a neon spider,” Zayn chuckles. “Mr. ‘I hate the outdoors,’ and all.”

“Oh, hush.”

It’s nice to have some levity about it even from them. Harry, of course, has been a huge source of relief but to hear it from people who have been through what he’s going through, know what he’s about to experience in his life--it’s reassuring. Zayn and Liam sit him down at one of the many, many long white tables in the room, drawing up some designs for a suit and going over and over in precise details what Louis’ powers are, so the suit can accomodate all of them. 

It takes them a few weeks to make it, of course, trying things on for size and shape but most importantly for compatibility. While Louis definitely isn’t complaining that he hasn’t been able to stick to a single thing while wearing the suit (he wishes he could utilize it in his normal life, it would save him so much fucking hastle), Liam and Zayn insist that power needs to be accessible. 

“If you’re swinging around, you won’t have the best grip on your webs without it. Also, what if you fall off? You’ll need to grab onto a wall or fire escape or _something_ in emergencies.”

And, okay, they have a point. It can be useful in situations like this. That doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

During his training, he fights both with and without the suit on. Niall and Liam train him in hand-to-hand while Ed and Zayn teach him how to be more focused on stealth and the power of surprise. 

It takes a long, long, long time, but finally, they think he just might be ready. 

* * *

Louis doesn’t get a watch to match the rest of them. Liam says it’s because Louis isn’t ready, yet, to just be on call for these kinds of situations. That doesn’t mean Louis doesn’t see when the rest of their watches light up, bright pink, with a little PE on the front. 

“That’s Bombshell…” Liam says “We gotta go. Little Mix don’t ask for help unless it’s fucking serious.” 

Louis knows he said that just for his benefit, since everyone else clearly understands what’s happening and are already gearing up. Louis hates that they’re using the undercover names for Little Mix when Louis should be privy to that information now, too.

“I can see her initials on there, Liam, I think I can--”

“Not our secret to tell, Louis. Stay here.” Liam goes off to his computer stand and Zayn wanders over.

“Alright, Louis, now that you’re all used to your powers and all suited up...do you think you’re ready for a fight?” Zayn asks, reaching for his voice modulator. “I need you to be honest with me. If you’re not ready you have to stay behind.”

Louis looks over to Liam, who is sufficiently distracted and not paying attention. 

“I’m ready. I’ve got this.” 

Zayn nods and tosses him a voice modulator and Louis runs to get his suit. 

“You gotta follow behind us. And you have to listen and play as a team. Don’t do anything stupid. This is important.”

“I know it’s important, Zayn, I grew up here--”

“Good. I love you, man, I do, you know I do, but you’re impulsive, and out there...it’s good to be impulsive sometimes, I’ll admit, but right now you’re still getting used to yourself. Save the impulsiveness. Please.” Zayn looks straight into his eyes when he says all of this, trying his damndest to impart the severity of this conversation on Louis. 

Luckily for Zayn, it isn’t lost on him. 

“I promise.” 

* * *

“Animal!” Louis yells out, dying to be heard amongst the din of other yells, of lightning and thunder all around. “Bombshell! Tradewind!” 

It’s so hard to see what’s happening. He can barely hear anything, either, but -- there. He can sense there’s someone else here on the street, just over…

Louis’ eyes widen behind his mask. It’s Harry, with his huge fucking camera, and one of his coworkers, trying to capture footage of the carnage around them. Louis watches on in horror as there’s a bolt of lightning, and then a light pole comes swinging, down, over Harry --

Loui just barely manages to catch it in time. Harry looks up in shock, seeing the beam over his head, the wind catching his curls and of course he looks beautiful like this. What a _prick_. Louis loves him so much. 

He can see the moment Harry recognizes what just happened and rushes his coworker away. 

There’s more citizens along the street, and Louis spends his time taking them to safety. Sometimes he has to swing them somewhere, which is less than ideal since he’s still getting used to it himself, but he does it. He saves them. People thank him. 

That first run gave him too much confidence. 

* * *

He’s trapped. He’s trapped in his own fucking web and he did exactly what Liam said he would do. All he can do is wait while everyone else saves the day and it’ll be all over the news and the _Bugle’s_ front page, probably, that New York City’s newest superhero can’t even get out of his own powers. 

Harry’s the one to find him, later. Louis is between light poles, stuck, hanging upside down, and he could just die from embarrassment. 

Harry doesn’t say anything except a small “Thank God you’re still alive.”

* * *

After, when Rhino’s being taken into holding, Zayn yells at him. 

“I told you to follow behind, Louis!” 

Louis winces from where Harry’s trying to clean the cut above his forehead and Harry shushes him. 

“He’s right, Louis, you could’ve gotten much more hurt than this,” Harry berates and this makes Louis feel infinitely worse than he already did. He never wants to let Harry down. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve listened, I just...I thought I was ready. I saw the shot and I just -- clearly I fucked up.” He looks at Harry who’s concentrating on putting a bandage on him now. 

Louis learns to listen, after that. He doesn’t put the suit on again for weeks, training, being patient, listening and listening and listening. To himself, to his body, what he needs, but also to what the city needs. 

He learns to control his sticking. He gets more control over his quasi-psychic senses. 

He goes out. He kicks ass. He’s not the biggest crime fighter, yet, but he’s definitely getting up there. 

* * *

It’s the beginning of August when Louis gets a call from Mason. A couple of calls, actually, but the first one comes when Harry’s tongue is fully inserted into Louis’ ass and making him cry out incessentantly, begging for Harry to let him come. He’s got his wrists tied up to the bed posts, the light of the setting sun coming through the window above his bed to just barely illuminate Harry’s curls where they lie against Louis’ dick. 

“Please, please, please,” Louis’ begging, over and over again. Harry had brought over the soft fabric and an eye mask, puppy dog eyes and a sweet voice Louis’ kryptonite. Not that he hadn’t been interested in trying out something like this before, God, no, he’s fantasized about this with Harry, but that boy can definitely be persuasive when he wants. Harry’s tongue keeps lapping and curling, sending words straight through Louis’ own mouth like a spell. 

“Being so good for me, baby,” Harry murmurs, gentle, so soft. 

They don’t talk any differently like this, even with Louis tied up and vulnerable. Harry is still making sure he’s taken care of and it makes him feel so _loved_. Louis feels fit to burst with love, both for and from Harry, from this amazing, perfectly good man. 

“You are so perfect for me,” Harry says, coming up for air for a while longer. Louis can hear the lube bottle snick open, a smacking sound as -- presumably -- his fingers slick up. “Could never find anyone better. God, baby, darling--” Harry’s fingers tease at Louis’ entrance and he gasps at the cold sensation.

“Wanna be perfect for you,” Louis says as his fingers enter, gentle yet cunning. They quirk inside of him in a way that makes him shout. Harry keeps going like that, fingering him deep and quick and hard, making Louis’ legs tremble and his arms shake. Harry kisses him languidly, like he’s not making Louis fall apart beneath him. 

Distantly, Louis hears a buzzing sound from his dresser. He’s convinced Harry’s just fucking him crazy, the sound too far off to be of any consequence when he’s being touched like this. When it ends, it goes right out of his mind, but then it immediately comes back. 

There’s a sharp moment of clarity. 

“Is that my phone?” Louis asks, voice slurring a little. He’s so close to coming, _so_ close.

Harry leans up from where he’s leaving a bruise by Louis’ nipple. 

“What?”

“I think my phone’s ringing, can you shut it off please? It’s very distracting.”

Harry chuckles as Louis feels him move away. Tragically, his fingers leave Louis’ ass, but he knows they’ll return in a moment. 

Only the phone keeps vibrating and Harry doesn’t come back. 

“What is it?” Louis asks. “Is it my mom? I promise I’ll call her back later, she can deal with me being busy for a bit.”

Harry sighs and Louis hears the buzzing die down and not start up again. The sheets shift and Harry takes the eye mask off. Louis has to blink against the sudden light, even as dim as it is. 

“No, it was Mason. I saw a text from him. He needs a ride from the airport.”

Harry can’t even meet his eyes, he just begins to untie Louis’ wrists and slowly massages them back to a state of comfort. He looks--he looks devastated by something.

“Mason can get a fucking cab. Harry, come on,” Louis protests, but Harry’s already wiping his hands off on the towel they’d brought in here for cleanup. He puts his boxers back on quickly, like he’s trying to leave right this second, like he can’t look at Louis again. 

“Harry, would you stop for one fucking second?” Louis snaps and, thankfully, Harry does. “Mason doesn’t need me right now. He’s a grown man, he can find his own ride.” Harry scoffs at that and, okay, Louis is not having this conversation naked. He hastily wraps the sheets they’d discarded onto the floor earlier around his waist and stands in front of Harry, demanding his attention. 

“I know you don’t like Mason. I have learned that no matter how much I ask, you don’t want to be nice to him. I’m going to have to live with that. I am living with that, I _have been_ living with that. It’s honestly fine. I know Mason can be an asshole when he wants--”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Harry, you’re going to have to live with the fact that I love Mason and I always will. He is...I can’t be apart from him. That does not mean--”

Harry clenches his jaw and fists at the same time, taking in a whistling breath through his teeth. 

“Fucking hell, Louis, you don’t have to rub it in.” Harry turns away from him, body tense. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Louis’ heart drops out of his stomach. 

“A mistake? What--”

“I thought I could do this, I thought I could live with constantly being second to him, but--God, these past couple months where he’s not been here? They’ve been--” Harry turns back to him, face bright and angry and passionate and sad. “I feel like I’ve just been fooling myself into thinking I could be in a relationship with you. An actual, real relationship. But I will always be second to Mason and I am tired of being some weird little side piece for you.”

Louis is struck silent as they stare at each other, Harry’s body heaving with feeling and Louis stock still. 

“Side...piece?” Louis has no idea what Harry is talking about. “Side to who?”

“To Mason!” Harry bursts out, almost disbelieving.

“To _Mason_? Do you think that--”

Oh, God. Oh, _fuck_. It’s so obvious. In one fell swoop, Louis can see it, see exactly what Harry’s been seeing. And he knows how manipulative Mason is, has always been, there’s no doubt in Louis’ mind right now that Mason has told Harry that Louis was off limits in some way or another. 

“Harry, I am going to say this as clearly as possible and I need you to listen and understand and answer me honestly.”

Harry nods to him. 

“Do you think me and Mason are in a relationship?”

Louis can see that of all the questions Louis could’ve asked him, this was the one he’d expected the least. 

“I...yes. Mason told me you two have been together for years.” 

Louis takes a deep breath and has to let it out slowly. He drops down onto the bed, the sheets sliding around and billowing at his feet. The sun is completely set now, the street lights barely letting him see to the other side of the room. Harry, thankfully, walks to the door and flips the light switch on. 

“I really, really wish I could call you stupid but you’re not. You’re just the sweetest person I know that takes everyone at their word.” Louis starts giggling, a little wild, uncontrollable. “I’m not dating Mason.”

Harry’s eyes are wide with wonder and he ever so cautiously takes a step closer to the bed. 

“You’re not?”

“I’m not. I have never been in a relationship with Mason. I love him, dearly, but never in that way.” Louis laughs again. “I’ve wondered this entire time why you never wanted to be with me in any official capacity. You’re too much of a romantic. I’ve--I’ve made my own assumptions, actually. That you just didn’t like me too much or something…” Louis can’t help it; he starts crying a little, a mixture of exhaustion and relief and sorrow. 

“No, no, no,” Harry rushes over to the bed in a flash, cupping Louis’ face between his two palms. “Never. I like you entirely too much. I was with you while I thought you were cheating on your boyfriend because I like you too much to not take whatever you offer me, in any capacity I was willing to have you. I was always too afraid to show you too much of what I felt because I never wanted to scare you away, or make it too intense. I--” Harry starts laughing with Louis. 

“We’ve both been very stupid.”

“We have.”

They kiss gently, softly. 

“Why would Mason lie like that? I know he’s possessive and a fucking dick, but. I just don’t understand…”

Louis nods.

“It’s...complicated.”

* * *

Louis doesn’t often like telling people about Mason, in fact, he’s only ever told Liam the entire story, but Harry deserves to know. 

He tells him the story of growing up in the city again, all of them crammed into a tiny townhouse, living right on top of each other. Only this time he adds in the story of another, scared little boy that moved in next door. 

Mason had been an orphan, shunted from home to home to home until he’d landed in the one right next to Louis’. Louis really liked the neighbors; they always had pretty candles lit in the windows and cookies baking and he liked playing with their kids and their dog on the street. Some of the kids would come and go but his mother explained that they fostered kids who didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

As Louis got older, he stopped going over as much. There was too much to do in his own home, and when he got a job at the record store at 16 he definitely didn’t have time for too many games. He was getting older, he had to be more responsible. School was getting more difficult and so were his sisters. 

Mason started walking to school with him every day and, like most other things between them, they fell right into place. Mason entrusted him with his past, of feeling unwanted, about how some homes wouldn’t give him food, of how others stole all of his things and sold them for drugs, of how some homes abused him. How hard it was for Mason to trust that this new home wouldn’t hurt him, that he wouldn’t be hurt ever again because they said they wanted to adopt him, to keep him as their own.

They got close very quickly, sharing each and every secret with each other. They were each other’s first kiss (Harry doesn’t like hearing this, but Louis laughs and kisses him firmly and strongly; _we were kids_ , he says, _it meant nothing to me other than getting it out of the way_ ) and along the way they pulled Liam into their group. 

When they all got to their freshman year of college, Mason grew nervous, scared of losing Louis to the great big world. 

_I--Louis, I love you. Please, would you be with me?_

_…_

_Louis, what’s wrong?_

_Mason, I don’t….I love you so much but not that way. I’m so sorry. I know that’s hard to hear, but--_

_It’s Liam, isn’t it? That fucker stole you from me. God, I’ll rip him to shreds--_

_Mason, stop it, nobody stole me from anyone. Liam is my friend, just the same as you. You’re going to have to live with me turning you down, Mason._

_No, I don’t._

_What?_

_I don’t have to live with it._

That night, Louis found Mason in the showers of their dorm with slit wrists. Shallow, hesitant, but definitely an attempt. The next two weeks were spent in the hospital, waiting for Mason to recover mentally. 

_Do you see what you did, Louis?_

_I’m not the one responsible for your decisions, Mason. You chose to do this. I am so, so happy you’re still here, but Jesus, Mason, you cannot pin this one on me. You will not guilt me into a relationship with you._

( _But didn’t he?_ Harry interrupts. _You barely like the guy, but you stick around to make sure he’s okay._

Louis doesn’t respond.)

The next year was spent keeping close to Mason, keeping an eye on him, making sure he was taking all of his medication and going to all of his classes and keeping up with assignments and internships. It had been difficult, actually, tracking his own schedule on top of Mason’s but he’d done it successfully until Mason felt comfortable doing it on his own their junior year. 

Mason never once dated anyone else, and neither did Louis. Louis definitely fooled around a bit, but it never graduated into anything more, not until he’d met Harry. 

(Harry grows very smug at this and Louis smacks his shoulder.)

He and Harry climb back into bed. 

* * *

Louis texts Mason that he’s unavailable, and he’ll have to find another way home. Mason doesn’t respond. 

“Maggie wants me to write a piece on your for Sunday’s paper.” Harry says

“On me? Or on Spider-Man?” Louis jokes even though he knows the answer. 

“On Spider-Man, you goose.” Harry gives him a small kiss, right on the nose, and Louis smiles at him. “I’m so happy to call you mine.”

* * *

**_NEW YORK CITY’S NEWEST SUPERHERO: THE SPIDERLING_ **

_WRITTEN BY HARRY STYLES, SCLU: MANHATTAN_

“The Spiderling, Harry, really?” Louis asks, rolling his eyes. “You know that’s not my name.”

“What?” Harry grins, clearly enjoying this. “There’s been no formal announcement of your name, I was left no choice. If I got it right everyone would think I’d have an inside source!”

They’re at Mickey’s and Jade was so shocked to see them on a Sunday that she had to sit down and double check her schedule to make sure she hadn’t lost a week. The morning news is on, the subtitles rolling, a little behind the scenes on the TV, as always. 

**_SAN FRANCISCO BREATHES A SIGH OF RELIEF. IT’S BEEN ONE WEEK SINCE THE LATEST CALAMITY, AND WHILE THE CITY IS VIGILANT, ITS CITIZENS ARE HESITANTLY HOLDING CELEBRATIONS THAT - WHATEVER LIVED HERE, WREAKING HAVOC THESE LAST FEW MONTHS - HAS FINALLY GONE. COMING UP NEXT, AN INTERVIEW WITH CHIEF OF POLICE BENNET. BENNET, WHAT CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT-_ **

Louis stops paying attention. 

Right here in New York City everyone’s talking about the Spiderling. Which -- okay, they’re definitely going to have to announce his name soon, this is just too embarrassing. 

_New York City is no stranger to heroes and villains alike. The city has a long, rich history of being the mutant capital of the world. Ellis Island stands testament to the city’s past: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free.” We all know that Lady Liberty begs for the underdogs, the oppressed to come to her for safety. Is that why so many mutants come here? The illusion of safety, like New York City is a beaming, bright light across our tumultuous sea of a nation?_

_There’s really no one true reason as to why this city has become the mutant capital of the world, followed by Washington, D.C. and San Francisco in their numbers. Perhaps it’s just due to statistics; there are, after all, just shy of 8.7 million inhabitants of New York City, and that’s just those we can count. Statistically, there are more mutants in an area with more people, it’s just a fact. That’s why new mutants seemingly pop up out of the woodwork every day; they’ve always been around, there’s just more clustered in the city limits, shoved in here along with everyone else._

_Perhaps that’s why we see so many superheroes. Mutants who have been oppressed for far too long wanting to make a real difference. Mutates who need to feel like they’re doing their part in the fight._

_Enter: The Spiderling. We’re all familiar with Super Squad, NYC’s newest (and youngest) group of heroes that’s sprung up in the past two years. Not much is known about them at all; unlike other superheroes, none of them give interviews. Only Cyber speaks to the general public. And yet, somehow, they’ve managed to scrounge up a rookie to train._

_And he saved my life._

_I was following Bombshell and Tradewind, her bolts of lightning just missing the villain as he rampaged down the street. Down came a light pole right over my head and I was so sure I was done for but then, out of nowhere, I got pulled back to safety and saw a red flash swing by. This stranger saved my life, took the time to notice the civilians around and make sure they were all safe. I watched as he helped move debris with his webs as he went past and helped usher a mother and her child into a building before he slung off to follow the carnage again._

_Maybe, finally, New York City has a group of superheroes here for the people. Not the fame, not the glory, but for the safety of the citizens. These are the ones lifting their lamp beside the golden door, beckoning those to freedom._

The article is a success and sells more copies of the Sunday edition than when it was discovered that the Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes. Maggie tells Harry that Spiderling is his responsibility now and that none of the other SCLU reporters get him, Jameson actually commends Harry for the article, and Louis promises to give Harry as many exclusives as he wants. 

He doesn’t even ask for a blowjob as payment, but Harry fucks him until he cries anyway. 

* * *

It’s nice, to be a hero for the city and its citizens. Not for glory, not for power, but for the good of it. 

Spider-Man becomes almost like a beacon of hope, a symbol for what’s to come. 

He and Harry meet up at Mickey’s, still, no matter what. Sometimes, he has to leave. Sometimes Jade joins him, when she’s ready to reveal herself, over a year later. Sometimes Zayn and Niall are there, sometimes Ed. 

Niall’s the one to find Kingpin out, in the end, and it’s like a curse has been lifted from the heart of the city. Finally, they can be free from his clutches. 

He learns, he adapts, he grows. He loves. He is loved. 

There’s a big fight, a few years later, and he gets a little boy out of a trainwreck just in time. 

“Who are you?” The small boy asks, a teddy bear grasped in his little hands. Louis can see his mother running over to them, tears making rivers in the dirt covering her face. 

“Oh, uh,” Louis wracks his brain for a response. “Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

It feels good. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading ! like i said, it's largely unfinished. if you have any questions, i will be happy to answer them.
> 
> art credit to ri! she deleted all social media but she gave me permission to use it whenever i finished this fic, so.


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